This is why you shouldn’t get to know your neighbors

When I moved back home from China, I had $16 to my name and lived on Shleisel’s couch until I procured an entry-level job at The Psych Ward. I used my first paycheque to move into a humble abode within walking distance of my new career choice. As you can imagine, the sorts of neighborhoods that surround the local mental hospital aren’t exactly the poshest in town. The house was originally built in the 20s, had a rusty porcelain tub, and office carpet in the kitchen.

But I was picking myself up by my bootstraps, so it didn’t matter.

This was a few months before I started dating The Psycho Ex so the list of people who wanted to murder me was relatively low, as was any concern for my personal safety. The majority of people I saw around the place were transients, process servers, and policemen. That is, until I got to know my neighbors—first was a little girl who lived across the street and was attracted, like most children, to Zola.

:She and I could kidnap so many children together:

She seemed mostly unsupervised and over the course of time began telling me various tidbits about her life—she was teased at school, had a dog named Rafiki, and wished she had red hair. She’d developed an intense love affair with a local stray cat whom she called “Ginger Cat” and was very determined to make it her pet. She’d leave trails of food and attempt to tame it when she saw it after school, singing songs and repeatedly saying, “I just love that Ginger Cat.”

One morning, as I walked home from the night shift, she met me at her bus stop.

“I just hate that Ginger Cat.”

“Oh no,” I said, “what changed?”

“It has a home. I followed it and I saw it go inside someone’s window.”

“Oh but that’s a good thing, right?”

“I hate it. I threw rocks at it, I never want to see it again.”

A few weeks later her mother tried to appease her by giving her a kitten. It was absolutely adorable, and then one day it was gone. Eventually she explained what had happened.

“I tried to walk it with a leash. But I didn’t have a leash so I used a shoestring. But it wouldn’t walk.”

She stopped making eye contact, but she continued talking.

“Then I thought it was just sleeping for a long time… But it was dead. So I hid it underneath my sister’s bed. Then I was scared she would find it so I threw it over the fence.”

It was sad– for the kitten, and for the girl– though I couldn’t shake the feeling I was making a cameo in a serial killer’s childhood flashback to dun-dun-dun THE FIRST SIGNS OF TROUBLE. There must have been something about the neighborhood, because the guy next door was…

He seemed innocent enough at first, like some sort of South Pole Santa with his white beard, floral shorts and cowboy boots. He was out on his front porch with a water hose and called Zola over to him. I followed and after a moment of polite conversation he invited us inside.

I said “sure.” Don’t judge me—I was fresh off half a year in Asia, it was totally normal to go inside strangers’ houses. Sometimes you did it without even telling them.

The interior of his home was all wood paneling and taxidermy– Antlers hung on every wall with raccoons, bobcats and mounted fish between. Everything looked straight country except for his massive TV and expensive camera equipment. He began playing a slideshow of photos he’d taken, mostly of empty landscapes or unsuspecting people.

“You know,” he said, “You’re the first woman who’s been in this house for 38 years.”

I decided this was a good time to leave.

South Pole Santa began spending a lot more time on his front porch, seemingly seeking any opportunity to pop over for a chat. He kept insisting he had a video he wanted to show me, and would go so far as to wait on my porch until I got home from work. After I’d woken in the afternoon, he’d ring the doorbell while I tried to stay as quiet as possible, watching his silhouette through the Venetian blinds.

He simply would not back off about this video. Even though I tend to be a little too nice he left me no option when he showed up while I was taking out the trash.

“You’re not ever going to watch that video, are you?”

It felt like an accusation.

“Nope,” I said, “Probably not.”

He may not have had a woman inside his house for 38 years but I was pretty sure he had an entire basement full of them.

He mostly left me alone after that, but a few weeks later I found myself locked out at 2AM after being dropped off from a bar. Somewhere in the process of enjoying my youth I’d lost track of my keys and was left standing outside my locked door in the middle of the night. I walked to the backyard, counting on myself to have been stupid enough to leave a door unlocked. I was that stupid, but I’d still managed to latch the security bar. It was like something you would see at a hotel:

I could barely reach my fingers through the crack, but was able to feel two screws on either side of the lock. There was a 24 hour Walgreens within walking distance and within half an hour I’d returned with a $4 screwdriver. Using my bizarrely flexible fingers, I reached one hand in to hold the screwdriver and the other to turn it ever so slowly.

The screws were just beginning to loosen themselves when the voice of South Pole Santa boomed through the night.

“Now what have you gone and done?”

I’d been so focused on the task at hand that I hadn’t heard him cross the yard or come to stand on the step below me. I told him I had it under control and didn’t need his help, but he insisted on staying. He held a spotlight in his hand.

“Let me hold this for you.”

I was doing everything by touch alone, I’m not sure what a massive light was supposed to accomplish, but I told myself he was just trying to be nice. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that at any second he was going to hit me over the head and drag me to his basement where I would eventually be embalmed and dressed up in hunting clothes.

Thankfully, that’s not what happened. I ended up getting the lock off the door and was back in my house by 3AM. The next morning when I went to let Zola out, I found a photo of a white buffalo tucked into the door frame. At some point in the night he had come back to leave me this little gift—I didn’t know if it was a peace offering or some sort of hex, but I moved before I ever got a chance to find out. Regardless, I’ve held onto the photo. Just in case.

Who’s the creepiest neighbor you’ve ever had? Do you know any children who are going to turn into serial killers? Have you ever had to break into your own house?

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That little girl scared me… I went and hugged both of my kitties before I finished reading.

Hmm. I used to live next door to a wanted murderer… Had no idea until SWAT knocked on our door, asking if they could scope out our place to get an idea of the layout of his apartment. (All the flats in the building were set up the same way.) All I knew was that he was a little creepy and had a noisy dog that very abruptly stopped being noisy.

Haha, I took a picture but they wanted me to delete it. So, no photo evidence.

We never figured out who he murdered, but a tip was called in from his father. He was going under a false name and I think he had four unregistered firearms in his apartment. It was the buzz of the complex for the next month, haha. We had a neighbor come up later and ask if we knew what was going on.

You just never know with people. Are they trying to help, or are the contemplating the sound your skull will make when they squish it? (If they’re the Mountain and you’re the Red Viper, that is.)

My dad loves to tell a story for his honeymoon with my mom. They were driving to a remote mountain cabin late at night and broke down on the side of the road. After a while, a big truck with a gun rack pulled up behind them a two of the most backwoods, tobacco-chompin’ types he’d ever seen got out. He was instantly on guard, so sure they were going to shoot him and take his bride back home for “fun times.”

But… instead, they analyzed the problem with his car, said it was a busted rubber tube, and proceeded to remove the same part from their truck and replace my dad’s bad one. When my dad asked how they would get home, they told him they lived nearby and would walk home, no sweat. Then they waved him along with a, “Have a good honeymoon!”

^okay that reaction was before I read the rest of the comment because now I have warm fuzzies. That’s amazing! I love these sorts of stories, they totally restore my faith in humanity. It’s pretty awful how we (okay… IIIII!) stereotype people or assume bad things about them. I have a similar car-breakdown story in Kentucky and two guys stopped and I was ready to go into kill mode. But they were just being nice… le sigh.

Those folks who live in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains will give you the shirt off their back! (just don’t touch the moonshine or the still because you might find yourself hangin upside down from a tree) LOL! I can say that because I be from Kentucky! 🙂

You certainly lived/have lived a colorful life Aussa! I lived in a bad part of Irving, TX for a little while when I was very young and stupid. It was in close proximity to my church and the highway I took for work. I was very fortunate nothing happened to me while there. But I look back at the time and say to myself “God, what was I thinking??” Good thing He took care of me! 🙂

It’s so funny/alarming to look back at those moments. When I think about the fact I used to walk to and from work… it blows my mind. This is not a good area of the city, I still feel on my guard when I walk to my car during daylight and I used to walk to work at 10:00PM every night. Oh Courtney… the things we survive… haha

Don’t all men keep women in the basement? I try to keep 7 or 8 down there for emergencies.
I used to keep losing my key when I was a teenager and had to break into our house all the time. (Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately it was pretty easy.)
My daughter just asked the other day if we could burn down our house. So this is one I am not too sure about!
We currently live next to someone on the sex offender registry.

It really is kind of alarming when you discover how easily you can get in… Even my current house, which is nicer and in a better area– I climbed to the second floor and pried open a window during my lunch one day after locking myself out. I was inside within minutes and did anyone call about the weirdo girl using a gardening tool on the window? Nope.

You just reminded me… I should totally check the sex offender registry for my address. Look for a post about that!!!

I am forever breaking into my house because I lock the keys inside. Either my neighbors (who I don’t talk to!) know who it is or just don’t give a damn. I’ve crawled in through the kitchen window, my bedroom window (propped up on a ladder in the snow!) and my kids windows. My oldest does the same thing if he’s locked out in the middle of the night. I appreciate them keeping themselves out of it but still!! I’d call, if I didn’t recognize them. Jeez. I could be hijacking my cute hamster and technology!

You should invest in a hidden key and/or give the neighbors a copy if you trust them to not be thieves/weird fetish people. Though I’m a total hypocrite because I only have one– count it–ONE key to my house. Everyday I tell myself to make a copy for my office and one for The Boyfran and everyday I move it over to tomorrow’s To Do list…

I’d have to think about the neighbors.
Yeah…I’m wagering four boys will dabble in serial murder/rape. I hope not, but all the ingredients are there.
Yes. Yes I have. My not-quite-husband shoved me up the side of our house and I crawled in through a window. The bruises on my thighs were incredible. They were my something blue for my wedding. ; )

Ugh, that sounds awful about those kids. Working in mental health, and understanding the effects of trauma, I always think of adults in the context of who they were as children– but it’s also interesting to look at a child and wonder who they will end up as an adult. And by “interesting” I mean TERRIFYING.

That’s hilarious about being shoved up to the window. Movies make that shite look easy but I’ve gotten very similar bruises before!

Thanks Jak! I’ve totally switched themes. And by “I” I mean Julie did this for me. Turns out ProPhoto couldn’t handle the capacity of comments that all of you kick-ass people like to leave. Well, I can’t live without it so “adios” to ProPhoto!

This reminded me of the scene in Silence of the Lambs when home girl goes into Buffalo Bills house. FFFFuuuuccckkk that. Glad you’re here to tell the tale, and not in a well somewhere. Also, I now wonder about that little girl too…I hope she’s not out there killing cats.

Are you kidding?? you have not seen Silence of the Lambs?? I cannot help but think about the scene where that same girl gets abducted in her parking lot. Tom Petty was singing American Girl on her car radio. She was singing along and she parked her car and said ‘hi’ to her kitty who was waitin for her at the window when she went to help the FAKER get a couch into his van! Yep, everytime I hear American Girl I think of that scene.

I remember when I saw the movie too. I had borrowed it from my boss and promised I would return it that same day so she didn’t have to pay an extra day rental. I had to return it in the dark. I was so scaird. I parked my car right in front of the door, left it running with the drivers door open, and backed into the store without taking my eyes off my car.

I need to see it! I’ve seen the part where the girl is down in a hole, and I’ve seen the end credits a few times– which is weird and I’m not sure why, but I can picture them. I also think I’ve seen something where they find a wardrobe of skin suits. Some things you feel like you’ve seen just because there are so many pop culture references!

You are so funny about returning it but I don’t blame you! I like watching scary movies just for the sake of that sort of terror.

ok, but please bear in mind that when The Birds came out it was also a terrifying movie. that thought just cracks my kids up. Ditto for Psycho. My sister hasn’t taken a shower since that movie came out. no she isn’t covered with creepy crawly crud, she prefers baths so no one can sneak up and stab her thru the shower curtain.

I was so fascinated by Psycho when I saw it as a kid. I mean… I’m not saying it wasn’t scary, because I totally ONLY use transparent shower curtains now, but I remember being so intrigued by the woman’s storyline, stealing money… running away… being slaughtered…

Tell your sister she really needs to watch “Nightmare on Elm Street”. Tell her it’s super fun! A Kitschy fun time scary movie! (Then watch her become covered in crud, as she’ll be too afraid to ever have a bath again.) I couldn’t have a bath for 5 years after I saw it.All showers.Even THEN I kept my eye firmly fastened on the bathtub drain plug.

That’s pretty insightful thinking right there. If you look around you for “that one guy” and you don’t find him… it’s probably you. But think of it as an ego boost– there’s probably some sneaky weirdo blogging about you right now. How fun is that!

I lived in a shit-hole apartment (small) complex with my sister for a year after I graduated from high school. It was 2 two-story buildings in an L-shape with a cement wall and the street to complete a rectangle shape. We had a neighbor that walked around the center courtyard for hours between midnight and 5AM. Just walking around and around the courtyard. My sis & I worked the closing shifts at separate, but not equal Pizza Huts, so we would see this loony-tune just about every night. One night when I was getting home around 2AM (Saturday’s we closed at 1AM) and the police were arresting him. End of creepy loony-tune guy. I moved out at the end of the year’s lease.

Hahahaha! I like these sorts of stories because instead of the “we never saw it coming” sort of reaction, you’re just standing there watching someone be escorted in cuffs and you’re thinking “Yep. I totally saw that coming.”

My gosh, don’t know what it is about all of your comments today but it’s totally triggering new blog post ideas! This time… about a neighbor in cuffs…

That little girl now has her picture up in post offices all over America, I’m afraid, Aussa. So very sad, that part of your story.

South Pole Santa must now by trying to show a new neighbor girl a video. It’s of you and your incredibly flexible fingers breaking into the back door of her new apartment!

And yes, I have locked myself out. It was at 2 a.m., post bar, no extra key, so I found the smallest window close enough to the backdoor knob and smashed it was a rock. It sure looked pretty covered with plywood for the rest of the summer!

I know. It was a strange little relationship. I could write more about her… I remember one day she stood across the street and just excitedly yelled “You are my favorite person!” and it was so purely childlike and sweet. But I wish she had more people in her life more worthy of being her favorite.

I love that your locked out story so closely resembles mine. I felt a little foolish sharing that, like it made me look like a total sot. But I should have remembered I was amongst peers 😉 I can’t believe you busted your window out! Gotta do what you gotta do, I suppose…

Well you do have a lot of stories girl. And i thought I had some! LOL I lived next door to an old man years ago. His wife was bedridden and had been that way for a while. Every time I went outside he would come out and propostion me. He would tell me he hadn’t had sex in years, and I would be doing an old man a favor if I would have sex with him LOL I would tell him no. He cried when I moved. Poor man.As for kids who might turn into serial killers, that was half my family ahahahha.

Yikes, Jackie. That sounds like a story for #YesAllWomen right there. I can’t believe he thought it was okay to just randomly beg you for sex– he didn’t even send flowers? Jest kedding. He sounds like my JcPenney guy with his “I NEED!”

Okay, this is bad, but that child sounds worse than the grown man. Animal killing children creep me out. Ditto evil children in general. This doesn’t count as my neighbors, but growing up in my parents house, I remember my neighbor’s girlfriend was staying over our neighbor’s house, when her ex boyfriend showed up and tried to kidnap her. He managed to force her into his car, but his getaway plan was thwarted when he crashed into several parked cars.

I agree. It makes me sad to think about… and people who kill animals for pleasure = something I can’t joke about. There has been only one thing that’s happened here at the psych ward that just completely traumatized me and it involved an animal. Ugh, don’t even want to think about it.

That’s terrifying about the girl getting kidnapped, good lord. I’m glad he didn’t get away… what an ass.

YES!!! I can comment without filling out the equivalent of a tax form first. I like it! I like it a lot!

p.s. yes, we had a creepy little boy up the street who another neighbor told me was “the next Jeffrey Dahmer”. I asked why, and she said that he ‘tortured animals’. I didn’t want the details. The family moved out a few months after this little revelation. Thankfully.

OK, I totally thought this was going to be about a neighbour hoarding Real Girl “dolls”.

My last neighbors, before we moved were 35 going on 15. Loud parties all night, the kids kept skipping school, the mother thought she was their age. I never have had to call the police on noise in 15 years of apartment living until they came along. Bonus: Their friends always got our doors wrong and would try to barge into our house at all hours, trying the door knob and banging on like idiots.

Haha well for all I know I do have a neighbor who hoards those sorts of “dolls.” It would nooooot surprise me…

That does not sound like any sort of fun. I’ve had a few neighbors like that in the past– when I was younger it was no big deal but the last time I lived in an apartment I totally went and banged on a guy’s door at 4AM. No one’s messing with my sleep if/when I finally get some.

Yes for the comments! And I find that child far more terrifying than the Bermuda Santa. However…children don’t come equipped with the best common sense. I can totally see that happening. -Note to self- Don’t buy the children a kitten.

I KNOW! Thank the lord! And you’re right about the common sense… I could see the shoestring thing being an innocent mistake but when she told me she hid it under a bed and then eventually threw it over a fence… *shudder* That’s just a weird sort of coldheartedness I’m not prepared to handle.

Our old neighbors in our apartment had two little girls. They baked us cupcakes when we first moved in. They left Christmas cookies and Easter eggs in front of our door sometimes. They were super sweet.

Growing up, I had some seriously screwed up neighbors…but that’s a whole blog post worth of info.

Aw, that’s sweet. You’re hogging all the good neighbors, Chrissy. Geeze… I want someone to leave cookies on my front porch. (Note to South Pole Santa: This does not include you and any roofie cookies you might bake)

You should totes blog about it sometime and don’t let me miss it. I could write a whole series on neighbors… perhaps I will…

My daughter and I were heading home from the movie and the police stopped us at the entrance to our little slice of McBurbia. They said there was a Situation. I explained that I absolutely had to go in or there would be a Situation at my house. My son and his girlfriend had left the theater before us and were undoubtedly back at the house already. You could practically see the hormone clouds from the bottom of the hill where we were stopped. In fact, I could look up that hill and see that the only lights on were in the spa room. With the hot tub. I tried to tell the nice policeman that I wasn’t ready to be a grandmother. Almost two hours went by. The spa room dimmed, as if the only lights left on were those under the water surface of the hot tub. I started picking out baby names. When we finally made it back to the house, two innocent (but slightly damp) teenagers insisted that they had just been sitting around wondering what kept us. And how weird was is that neither of their mobiles had registered incoming calls. Or texts. LOTS of texts.

Next day I discovered that the next door neighbor, who was BTW batshit bonkers, had met some process-servers at her door with a display of the weapons that her gun-dealing current gentleman caller kept around. Now, our neighborhood was like some Walt Disney version of ultimate suburbia, so this neighbor was something of an aberration. I met her the day that we moved in and she came over to make sure we weren’t anything undesirable like Asians or Jews. (I told her she’d hit paydirt– we were both, and were thinking of renting out the basement to a black and hispanic couple. In my defense, I didn’t know she kept an arsenal in her house.) A week later, we met again when we arrived home to discover that she was just cutting down the last of the row of beautiful old trees separating our two lots. So she could keep an eye on us.

A few weeks went by, and I was over in the next town picking up my daughter when my husband called and casually suggested that I might want to stop and grab a latte somewhere. This is the same husband who will wait in Burger King’s interminable line for a crap cup of coffee rather than pander to my addiction to overpriced caffeinated beverages with fake Italian names. “Who is this really?” I asked, figuring that pod people had also mastered the phone system. Just then my phone buzzed a call from my son. He said that people with automatic weapons and SWAT signs on their backs were pouring through our bushes toward our neighbor’s house. He wanted me to tell my husband, who was standing in the picture window, drinking a cup of coffee and watching the show, that maybe he should get down.

Sadly, they took my poor neighbor away and some accountants moved in instead. There went the neighborhood.

This is an incredible comment, and I’m kind of in awe that you chose to gift all of us with that story. Everyone should click over to your blog if they aren’t already following you!!!

I was laughing aloud at the part about the teenagers and “I’m not ready to be a Grandmother” and the neighbor who had to make sure you weren’t Jewish. How do people like that even live in this world! Hilarious. Total suburbia, that’s for sure!

Count me in on the enjoyment of that story! What an awesome neighbor, and how good of you to rent out the basement on her behalf! I also love that your son let you know you had to tell the husband to get out of the window after he told you to go buy a foo foo coffee for yourself. Now there’s a family that’s got each others backs!

Thanks, Julie! I wasn’t on the side of the angels here though. I used to bait that neighbor. For example, our houses were built on the side of a mountain, so my roof was much higher than hers. I figured out that I could put a giant light-up menorah in my upstairs window, and from the main street below it looked like she had a huge menorah displayed on her roof. Of course, now that I know she kept a gun shop in her living room, I’m not nearly as thrilled with my wit.

I had a neighbor called “Dr. Bob.” Dr. Bob was pretty old, with a long raggedy beard, and liked to hang out his window (which looked out into my apartment’s parking lot) and talk to the ladies… when he wasn’t wearing shirt. I am not sure if he was wearing pants or not, I just assumed he was for my sanity. When fully clothed, he would meander about wearing a homemade rope “tool belt” on which hung things like a plunger, a giant flashlight, a roll of tape, his walking cane (which was as awkward as it sounds) and other miscellaneous times he picked up here and there.

I love that his name is suspicious enough to warrant quote marks around it. And I wish I was a better artist because in my mind I can totally picture this rope belt with a cane and a plunger hanging from it and I really REALLY wish I could paint something like that. He almost sounds like an animated character in a kids’ movie. Laughably endearing but also kind of perverse…

At my last house, the hoarder guy a few houses down had hundreds of cats, several raccoons, possums and the dead body of his mother in the back bedroom. Psycho much? She died of natural causes, apparently, but the animals had been doing what animals do to dead bodies over the course of several months. It took them weeks to clean up the mess.

Okay.
So…
Either you and I live in the same city or this happens way too often.
We totally had a guy who came into the hospital after animal welfare was called about all the cats in his house. And then they found the Mother.
Part of the Mother.

Good lord he sounds creepy and the kid… jeez! We lived in a house that was no 76A and next door was 76 but the postman was too dumb to tell the difference so he constantly mixed up the post. Our neighbour was an elderly woman who had dementia and kept signing for our parcels and then denying all knowledge even though we could see them in her hallway. I didn’t mind that because she wasn’t well but sometimes her brother would stay with her and then come and yell at us accusing us of sending parcels to the wrong address on purpose and disturbing his routine. He also accused me of writing his sister threatening letters about a garage that supposedly was connected to both properties that I didn’t know existed. I don’t miss him.

Ha! This sounds like when I lived in the Hovel with my “628B” address! Aw, such sweet times…

That’s sad about her memory but uncool about the brother– yes, it’s perfectly reasonable that you would conspire to upset his routine by purchasing things to be delivered next door. That makes perfect sense.

I know, right… like I’d have nothing better do do with my life. Now we just have the couple where the wife keeps yelling, “I wish you would just go back to Iraq”, the alcoholics who have a garden party every warm day… even if it’s a Monday and the unidentified person who loudly vomits several times a week.

When I was in law school, my second year my roommate and I lived in what we thought was a cute little neighborhood. There was a family with a small child next door. Less than a month after we moved in, I woke up at 2 am to the house next door completely engulfed in flames (our house very nearly caught too). Thankfully no one was home at the house next door. Turned out little momma next door was having an affair with the 18 year old boy across the street, who deliberately set the house on fire when she tried to break it off. We didn’t talk to our neighbors anymore after that.

Oh my gosh!! There are so many things wrong with this, where do I start?!
A: Having an affair is bad, but
B: If you’re going to have an affair, don’t pick an 18 year old (they have crazed emotions and may catch things on fire), but
C: If you’re going to have an affair with an 18 year old don’t pick the one who lives across the street!

Oh yeah! The stalker is how I initially met you! I wonder where he is. Also: You have a denim bra? I want one. Wait– you HAD a denim bra, that is… And I’m pretty sure that your landlord is the last person you want to have a sexual infatuation with you. Right after your OBGYN.

AUSSA!!! OH GOOD LORD! The whole thing scared me! The little girl (who clearly needed help), the poor poor kitten. I think you should use some of your skills to find out what happened to her. South Pole Santa sounded a little creepy and I am so very happy you didn’t end up in his basement! Zola is so beautiful! I want you to give her a rub and a hug from me, and while you’re at it a hug to you too, from me of course!

I thought of you when I wrote about the kitten, actually– because of our conversation about the baby duck 🙁 So awful.

I’ll bet she still lives in that house. I’d be able to tell simply by whether or not their front porch is still populated with an old couch, elliptical, and shelves covered in various items. I’d feel mildly creepy parking off to the distance and spying on a child though…. Ha.

Oh the poor baby duck! And the poor coyote (who doesn’t really deserve our feeling bad for him because some of his relatives ate your pets but we do anyway cause he looked like a scaird dog) who did NOT get hit on that stretch of road, but the next day there was a doe on the side of the same road. I thought of you immeadiately! That and the movie Starman. Again my instinct was to stop. Like what the hell do I think I am gonna do?? Put my hand on her and she comes back to life and trots off happily into the forrest?? (Starman reference) It also made me think of what I used to tell my kids when they were little and we saw a dead animal on/near the road. “No, he’s ok, just sleeping” Sometimes they get so tired their guts even fall out. god what a warped sense of humor I have sometimes…..

I hate when I see deer on the side of the road 🙁 I haven’t seen Starman but even without the reference I still laughed out loud at the imagery of you healing it and watching it trot away– hahaha! And yep, I’m with you on the warped sense of humor. At least once a week I have thoughts like “can I really blog about this? Will people think I’m a terrible human?” but I guess if I am then you guys are just as bad or, at the very least, enablers 😉

well, there’s another movie for you to watch. He is a being from outerspace that makes himself look like a human and on his way to where he is gonna be rescued they come across a buck tied to a stationwagon during hunting season at a truckstop diner. He goes out and brings it back to life and releases it much to the dismay of the hunters!

oh my. I just remembered my mom catching one of the boys that lived down the street dunking our kittens in a pail of water. I don’t know if he was attempting to drown them or what the hell he was doing but was so happy my mommy was there to put a halt to his actions. We had a stray momma kitty who lived in a dog house in our back yard and she had kittens and her kittens had kittens… the ones who didn’t find new homes stayed and had kittens..

I guess since they were “outside cats” they weren’t really considered our pets??? I don’t know, because I was pretty young it musta been the middle to late 1960’s. I know that the cats we had that lived in our home did their regular vet visits… I saw one of them get hit by a car once too. That was a little traumatic for me.

I got locked out the night of my mums engagement. Not only was the whole evening something I wasn’t looking forward to, I had to stand outside my house for an hour before we could go inside. And I was in HEELS.
We opened the other door ( which is in the dining area) and after the guard broke down the round doorknob, the door STILL won’t open because it was chain locked from inside. Just like the one you put a picture of. Aaah..It was a long night.

That is the worst– when you’re in a situation that’s not happy for your emotions and then you mix in some good old fashioned Murphy’s Law. I do love that you had a guard there to break a doorknob, that sounds so dramatic.

Good Lord! the mother in me just wants to cover you in bubble wrap and take away your cell phone to keep you safe. Shit. Now I sound like your neighbor. Just be careful for fuck’s sake. Don’t do anything rash like post your face and name and personal details online for any psycho….well shit. Good luck to ya!

Have you heard the expression “shooting for the moon?” or something like that? I’m thinking that by making myself incredibly stalkable (via online spilling of my guts) I will in fact reverse the steady stream of stalkers that has always flooded my way when I was more demure and secretive. I’ll let you know how that goes. As soon as I find my way out of this basement.

I had a neighbor woman with a very creepy deer in the headlights stare (perhaps too many drugs as a youth and probably an adult) and a penchant for just making me feel about as uncomfortable as I could possibly feel. I was nice enough to let her use my phone one day when she locked herself out of her condo, and I guess she took it as her invitation to drop in unannounced from time to time. Once even at some god awful early morning hour. Like 3 am or something. Ringing the doorbell AND knocking. So let’s say I am familiar with trying to be silent and acting like I am not home. Eventually she gave up so I didn’t have to spell it out for her. That was a concern too as I am pretty certain her brother was a gang member and would have most certainly killed me if she was upset in any way. I couldn’t even make eye contact. THAT creepy. LOL. Glad you made it out of the neighborhood safe and sound. As for the little girl? I am guessing she isn’t planning on going to vet school. How completely creepy and sad.

Yikes. I mean… I know I’m going to sound unreliable considering I admitted to going into his house but I NEVER let people in my house. Unless they’re a cop and I’m totally that person who’s like “let me see your badge!” in a voice two octaves too high. I also very rarely answer my door unless it’s definitely a woman and I definitely can take her and I definitely still have my taser in hand. I’ve just seen too many situations that didn’t work out well. Aye. Cynicism.

Cynicism or a built in self preservation instinct? I am betting on the latter. There are many reasons the statement “Better safe than sorry” holds up. Nothing wrong with being cautious. I can see the headline noe though. “Female police officer tazed by cautious tenant during routine disturbance call” LOL, Keep safe and keep inspiring Aussa.

Oh my – you have such AWESOME stories! I’d be curious to know what happened to the little girl – sounds like she had some serious issues that could’ve been addressed by the agency where I work…

As for creepy neighbors, when I lived in a co-op apartment purchased with my failure ex-husband there was an older, single lady upstairs. I may have exchanged pleasantries with her once or twice while getting my mail or doing laundry in the basement. She was a thorn in my side since she complained every time I had children in my apartment (my son was around 8). She bitched and whined even though play-dates normally happened during the DAY.

The time that really hits home for me was the weekend my son was at his father’s & I heard the old lady yelling upstairs. Not long thereafter she was banging and yelling at my door. Fearing the need to call 911, I rushed to put some clothes on to go see if she needed help. Then I noticed my cat was missing. Then I noticed the window-screen in my son’s room was pushed out. Freeta had climbed up the fire escape into the old crone’s window. Dammit! I ran upstairs to collect my wayward kitty. This bitch would NOT let me in! I banged on her door for like 5 minutes before threatening to kick her ass if anything happened to my cat. I found Freeta, my talkative, 6-year-old calico, about 40 minutes later on the fire escape above mine. (It took that long to find her since I didn’t know if the bitch had pushed her out the window or kicked her out the door into the building). It was no easy feat getting her back down! My babysitter from across the street had to help me pry Freeta off the bars! What a crowd, I tell ya!

I know, I kept thinking she needed the help of some of my colleagues who work with children :-/

That neighbor sounds like the worst. I mostly find it awkward that people feel compelled to complain about things like children being around– I mean, complain in your head if you must, or behind your closed door, but to the Mom? What did she expect you to do? “Oh sorry, here let me push him back up in the birth canal where he won’t disturb you anymore.”

Yep, that kid is going to end up on top of a building with a machine gun some day. I watch a lot of crime shows and most killers start off killing animals, before moving onto bigger prey. Maybe you should set her on Santa, make a slide show of the whole thing (he’d like that) and kill two birds with one stone? 😉

Okay, you’ve sparked a genius thought: Using algorithms similar to that of dating sites, there should be a website where you can submit information regarding the creepy weirdos in your life and then they will be matched with their greatest foe and then those two can be arranged to cancel each other out. Yes. That makes perfect sense, right?

I can see the girl as creepy but also as poorly supervised. Young children are rough on animals and obviously it can be dangerous. I mean, where was the mother? My mom didn’t watch me every second, but she surely would never have let me kill a kitten with a shoestring. Sorry if that sounds judgmental, but I guess it is. I guess I’m not too forgiving when it comes to animal abuse and neglect.

She was incredibly unsupervised. I feel like so many kids in that neighborhood and some of the places I lived in college were just free to roam around all the time and I would always worry about how vulnerable they were to being victimized. ESPECIALLY with how eager they were to just walk up and play with Zola. All a creepy kidnapper needs is a friendly dog.

Then again, I was totally unsupervised as a child too and I never killed animals or humans (yet).

OMG…I think that I’m more afraid of the little girl…creeeepy kitty killer. We solved the neighbor problem by living out in the country. That probably makes me the scary Tecumseh Rd Hermit. Thankfully, I only keep laundry and excess garden produce in my basement.

Bahahahaha. I had a neighbor that was an ex body builder. She was a really nice lady for the most part, but she told me once that after she ate a cheeseburger at mcdonalds, she realized how she hated being a female body builder and became a manager at mcdonalds and gained over 200 pounds. She would then go up to every skinny girl she could find and tell them that salad isn’t food, mcdonalds quarter pounders are food. And would upgrade any skinny persons food to a large because they were too skinny and skinny people obviously aren’t happy.

And her boyfriend would beat the shit out of her kids so we would call the cops on them on a weekly basis. I felt bad though, because she gave me clothes all the time. And they fit too, it was weird.

Hahahahaha this is like your typical weight loss transformation story in reverse. Someone usually starts out as a McDonalds manager and then magically turns into Ms. America by the end of a 7 minute YouTube video.

That’s awful about her kids though, and makes my punching arm all twitchy (totally stole that expression from Maurnas/Cursitivity).

I will absolutely look it up. I feel totally lame for not including my white buffalo photo but I wrote this in a major rush and didn’t have time to go digging through the drawers in my studio. But I know it is there…. protecting me with love and harmony.

The stuff you write about, always something that hits a light bulb. Yea I locked myself out once, it was not very pretty since at the time I was not even wearing any shoes and I had to wait for my mom to come home. (I was 15).

As for other thoughts I had when reading this post: Instinct is a strong survival skill.

I used to live in a very ordinary neighbourhood with my ex-husband in a very ordinary bungalow. One night on a Friday at around midnight we were asleep when we woke up to the sound of three extremely loud bangs. They sounded like they came from someone rapping on the window with a pole of a rake or something. I jumped out of bed and looked through the blinds and saw people scattering everywhere and there were people screaming…our neighbours, another young couple, had been having a party that night.

Suddenly, the street was lit up by cop cars and ambulances with their sirens blazing and the cops saw us looking through the window and came to talk to us. Turned out the neighbours hadn’t invited some people to their party. Those people were so angry about it, they’d actually driven by and shot through the front of the neighbours’ house with a handgun. The girl was almost killed since she was shot in the chest through her living room window. My car was sitting in the driveway and apparently party goers had touched it so I couldn’t drive it for a few days while it got fingerprinted. Our yard was also cordoned off for a day or two while they searched for evidence.

Oh my lord. What a story. I read this on my phone last night while I was wifi-less and was sad that I couldn’t reply in the moment haha. That’s insane and totally the sort of thing you imagine happening in the ghetto… not in a normal neighborhood. Who shoots at people just because they didn’t get invited to a party?! Stories like this make me worry about all the other humans.

Oh Lord, that’s scary. Pepper spray on the holster helps me feel a little better. Not much better, but it’s something. I wrote about some creepy neighbors in my short story anthology, “Rome, Home & Meatballs.” The word ‘Home’ in the title is the name of the street I lived on growing up, where crazy neighbors lived two doors down. We kids used to dare each other to look in their window and were sure that they were conducting creepy experiments in the basement.

Hey, are we ever going to find out what you were running away from when you jumped through a glass window? I’m still waiting ….

I’m pretty sure that spying on creepy neighbors is an integral part of having a happy childhood. I spent the majority of my formative years developing conspiracies and conducting investigations around the neighborhood.

And: yes! It’s an important story. I have to figure out when I’m ready to tell it… but I do have another “series” I’ll do towards the end of the summer that is super creeptastic!

I didn’t see my response post here, so I’m trying again. I hope it doesn’t duplicate.

Heh, somehow it doesn’t surprise me that you were already investigating as a child. I started my short story about the neighbors house by saying that it seems every neighborhood has one of those spooky houses. This one literally looked like a the stereotypical haunted house from the outside.

At my first apartment, it was basically one room connected to another apartment in back and my landlord in the house in the front. I don’t know what the deal was, but I think she was letting a guy stay in his van in the backyard/parked in the front and it creeped me out to no end. I have no problem with what someone is comfortable with but it’s still going to skeeve me out to see a strange man walking around randomly when I haven’t been notified. My current apartment’s garage is a bit creepy, but there’s never been anyone in it, so that’s a relief. 😛

How old was this little girl? I feel like if she was old enough to be waiting at the bus stop she should have known that you shouldn’t tie something around a cat’s neck…? 🙁 That poor kitty!

Staying in his van? Hahahaha what the heck, yeah I can see how that would be a little alarming to just discover on your own. No judging people who live in vans though, I strongly considered it when I was in college…

I’m trying to think of how old she was… comparing her to my nieces I would say she was probably like 8 or 9 years old? And she was super clever so I don’t think it was entirely an accident.

Seriously, you always manage to unlock all sorts of bizarre childhood memories that I would’ve never remembered otherwise! Growing up, we lived next to a family with a little boy around my age. I think his name was Dustin. He once gave me bleach from their garage as a joke, telling me it was 7-Up. Obviously I drank it because I NEVER got soda, then I barfed all the way home and my parents had to call poison control. THEN once he locked me in this foot locker thing that for some reason was in my room. It was exactly the size of a coffin. I was stuck there until my dad got home (an hour later). NO WONDER I’M A LUNATIC. Holy shiz, I drank bleach and got locked in a coffin before the age of eight!

Um, giving you bleach to drink is totally not a joke! That’s awful. Have you ever looked this kid up to see what brand of criminal he turned out to be? I mean, locking your friend in a coffin is fairly routine child’s play but… not letting them out and making them wait to be rescued? That’s psychotic.

It IS psychotic!! I honestly haven’t thought of that incident (either one) in a-g-e-s, much less tried to look them up. I’m sure my mom remembers their last name. So weird. He’s either in prison or a politician. Totally.

Oh Aussa I wish we could go have a drink and talk about some crazy neighbors I have had….Too many to list here. I lived next to a guy that bathed in a creek and pooped out of a farm house window… true story. oh wait there is more… Go on and pass me that drink first LOL.

hmmm I replied but didn’t see it so I will try again : ) He was a homeless guy who lived in the farm house next to us. No running water so that was how he chose to do his business out the window. My ex also caught him peeking through the window once while I was taking a shower! Whether he was admiring me or simply admiring our amenities such as running water is anybody’s guess. Oh and sorry I ruined your yogurt! LOL never my intention! We could swap war stories hun! and thanks for the wine ; 0 )

Not a neighbor, but once when my husband and I were newlyweds, we lived in downtown San Diego in a little duplex with a high rise behind it. One day I was home alone, and heard someone run past the back door (which faced the side of the lot). I got up and looked, but saw no one. About 5 minutes later, I heard the sounds of policeman on their walkie talkies out front, as well as a helicopter above. Went to ask the police what was going on, and found out that a burglar had jumped out a back window of the high-rise and “escaped” through my yard while I sat not 5 feet away on the other side of an UNLOCKED back door. After that I locked the doors when I was home alone.

Woah. Dang, imagine if he had been trying doors to see if he could find a place to hide! I ALWAYS have my back door unlocked when I’m home during the day, for letting my dog in and out. You never imagine something like that will happen… until it does. Yikes!

What was weird about it? I updated my server the night before and then re-installed the plugin that puts it in the reader so it may have been caught up in the transfer or something. Hopefully it sorts out in time for the next one!

I’m guessing I’ve probably been the weird neighbor too… at the Hovel, definitely. There was lots of drunkenness there as well… drunken fence climbing and drunken dancing in the yard… maybe some tricks involving fire, who’s to know?

Jak and I once lived upstairs from a whorehouse (or whore apartment, I guess). During the day, they were no trouble, but at night they would take up all the parking spaces and keep us up til all hours with their loud music and loud… other activities. Naturally, I was completely ignorant of their true purpose until after they left and I found the landlady cleaning up the mess they left behind. It never occurred to me that the person answering the door when I went downstairs in my bathrobe to ask them to turn their noisy music down. With this in mind, you can see how creepy it would be for me to be greeted by someone dressed in skimpy underwear asking me if I wanted to come in and party.

You remind me I should talk to my neighbors. I think the only creepy person is this guy who was just sitting… like sitting for a long time, in a running van in my apartment parking lot. When I got out of my car after gathering my stuff, he also go out of his still running car and asked for my name, if I lived there and what number apartment I lived in. Thinking this was a creepy line of questioning, I told him “I’m not really comfortable giving out that information,” and went into my apartment. Five minutes later, he also went into the building to his own apartment upstairs. Well, damn. I didn’t know he was a neighbor. Now I look like the creepy one.

Ha! No, it’s still creepy to just outright ask someone where they live, regardless! I had that happen when I lived in an apartment a little over a year ago. It was in the evening and this guy was like “hey, where do you live? When did you move in?” And I think I laughed and was like “yeah, I’m not going to answer that.” And then he pulled out a badge and told me he was a cop, lived there, and they paid him to patrol. I still don’t think I told him though.

That little girl reminds me of me. And I turned okay. Mostly. When I was young and desperate I shared a house with this weird little french guy. About a year after I moved out he went on trial for tying up his ex-wifeand raping her repeatedly IN FRONT OF HIS DAUGHTER. I hope he is still in jail. The new format looks great.

No no no. I should have clarified that. I mean the strangeness of the child. I was an odd child and would strike friendships with adults, I said creepy things sometimes, and I would play in a graveyard we had near our apartment. Eventually my social skills developed. The little girl just reminded me of strange I must have seemed to adults. I also had ill fitting second hand clothes and my hair was cut very badly by always drunk mom. Okay, geez, this sounds sadder than I intended. So in closing: Happy well adjusted adult now. And never killed any cats or other animals.

I just finished reading all the posts regarding your ordeal with the psycho ex and hooooooly shiiiiiiiiit, that is some Epic Poetry. That tale was just about every Greek tragedy I’ve ever read. I’m sorry you went through that but I’m glad you wrote about it. It was sad, funny, shocking, and so full of wit. And the writing was so good. Well done.

Creepiest neighbour ever… that’s a tough one. If you read my recent post on growing up in the ghetto you’d see why… but I think the guy who stood on the front lawn swinging an axe and yelling “I’m gonna kill every person in this neighbourhood” would have to take the cake.

In terms of kids… some of my students, I wonder. I once asked them in a written survey “If you could do one crazy thing before you die, what would it be?” and more than a few of them actually wrote “murder.” Every once in awhile, such as yesterday, there’s a student or two or ten that in my unguarded moments I think “I should just throw him/her out the window right now and do the future world a favour.” But that would make me the serial killer, not them, and I don’t think the pre-emptive strike excuse would hold up in court…

Hahahahahaha wtf, Janelle. Seriously? I remember a patient who was brought in for doing a similar thing– twice. The second time, he’d taken an axe to a fast food restaurant because he was mad at the manager. I hope that your neighbor had some sort of crisis intervention………

Okay, I feel like I have to quote this or stitch it on a pillow or something: “There’s a student or two or ten that in my unguarded moments I think ‘I should just throw him/her out the window right now and do the future world a favour.”

That’s so incredible. Unfortunately I think you’re probably right about the criminal justice system not looking kindly upon that favor.

Haha! I was really young so I don’t remember what happened after. I also don’t remember ever seeing that neighbour again though… I think we got new neighbours.

Thankfully my students today made up for the evil students of the other day: they gave me presents and home-made cream puffs for my last class! So there is some hope for the future even without murderous intervention…

Ha! Funny post Aussa. Couple of points to start 1) Do you really put rabbit ears on poor Zola? How embarrassing. I feel so sorry for Zola. And do you really think Zola will be a deterent to people with bad intentions while wearing the ears? 2)Your site looks better all the time – I like the graphics and the font is excellent. I wear bifocals but prefer to use the computer without any glasses (less eyes strain). I find your font and spacing very easy and clear reading. On top of it, for some reason, your site loads and refreshes very quickly. I am using an old laptop and some sites load so slow it is annoying to read them. Thank you.

Onto the topic at hand. I don’t recall any too weird neighbors, but I clearly recall a woman who thought I was an axe murderer. Ha! I was young (21) and had just bought my first tractor-trailer – a used unit from the brother of an aquaintance. It came with two bumper stickers on the dashboard – “Born on a mountain, raised in a cave, F**king and truckin’ are all I crave” and “Ass, Gas, or Grass, nobody rides for free.” Being lazy, I had not taken the time to remove them. I was leaving Halifax, loaded, one rainy stormy day when I came across a young woman in her twenties hitchhiking on the side of the road on an empty section of highway. I normally don’t pick up hitchhikers unless their safety is threatened but she seemed so forlorn and soaked, that compassion guided me to stop. At first she spoke about being from central Ontario, but anytime I asked her polite questions about herself she clammed up and looked at me very suspiciously. Her rambling discourse was not indicative of a healthy mind. Then she noticed the stickers. At that point she became very quiet and looked like she would stick me with a knife if only she had one handy. There is a commercial government highway scale on the highway and all trucks have to report to be weighed and, if so desired by officials, their paperwork checked. Commercial vehicles are only allowed so much weight per axle and must be kept under a certain maximum. I got paid by the pound, so I had loaded as much as I could legally carry and was close to my limit. I told my passenger that we had to stop so she wouldn’t be alarmed as I pulled into the scale area. I came to a stop on the scale platform,and she opened the door and jumped out into the rain. As I watched she ran up the highway ramp and then, looking back, climbed down into the ditch and stood in the water. The scale operator, being curious, announced on the speaker that he wanted to see my paperwork, so I went inside. His first comment was, “Your weight is close but not close enough that you had to kick your passenger out to be legal.” Ha! I laughed and explained what had happened. I told him that she was his problem now and to have a nice day. As I exited the scale I waved at the woman and she moved further into the ditch.

Hahahaha! Okay so I read this comment when I woke up this morning, whilst having my coffee in bed and I totally spilled it on myself because I was dying laughing. I can just imagine!! And I love those bumper stickers, how terribly inappropriate! I wonder if she’s out there right now, blogging about you as the guy who almost kidnapped her 😉

Jeez, friend! I’m not sure if there are many people roaming earth, who’ve met such a wide range of interesting characters (read twisted f*cks) in their lifetime. Other people, less fortunate than you, have to make these things up!! Great post once again.

I should do a creepy drive by and see if she’s still there. Or I can wait ten years and see if she gets admitted to the hospital. That’s not funny 🙁 I often thought about that, actually… that she was exhibiting the sorts of things I read about in their clinical histories.

And I’m glad I don’t have to make this stuff up, that sounds positively draining.

My apartment on the Lower East Side was full of the destitute and poor. (That was then. Now, I couldn’t afford to move there if I wanted to.) The woman next door had her electricity shut off for non-payment. One night she knocked on my door. In on hand, she held an electrical extension cord that lead back to her apartment. She wanted to “borrow” some electricity. In her other fist was a steak knife, in case I was crazy, I suppose.

I’m wondering why you use “paycheque,” “posh” and “ginger” in the same post. These are distinctly British/Euro euphemisms. I didn’t detect an accent in the videos. What’s going on here? I think I’m thinking too much about this stuff. And…speaking of…when do we get a new video? I’ve told you how enjoyable and funny I find them. Feed the beast!

Dangit, I replied to this on my phone this morning and I was like “this was so great, I’m going to actually use my phone, which I never do” and it didn’t work. That’s exactly why I never use my phone for such things. *wails*

That’s amazing that she knocked on your door like that– it sounds like something from a Wes Anderson movie. I will let him know to include it. If someone got a digit cut off, all the better.

And! Angelle and I are in talks about doing another vlog. And I have no clue where those words came from though I now realize that two of them were Spice Girls, which is odd and beyond my ability to explain.

I have a neighbor across the street who rents out rooms in his house – so we have a constant flow of people coming and going – all strangers. His latest border is a fellow who stands out on the driveway and smokes, staring at me with no expression on his face while I’m outside watering or weeding the front lawn. The first time it happened, I went inside – and then came out later to finish the job. Within 10 minutes, he was out there again, having another cigarette and watching me. It totally creeps me out.

Hi Aussa, thought I lost your blog. I live in the inner city, over looking a park. I do not pay for entertainment I get it free nightly below my window..my first apartment when I was 17, the ancient landlord dressed as a cowboy and would stand in front of the building with just enough of his dick out to qualify as my first sick freak. I got locked in a house once, a Bristol Squat, the council boarded it up as we slept in the basement, we piled up junk and climbed out a window, sort of had to scale a wall up to sidewalk, as I hung there, one leg in, one leg round a post, a guy came striding by with a cheerful-“Morning Sista” like it was a normal everyday thing..I laughed, my friend was not amused. Great post, thanks.

I can imagine the sorts of entertainment one might have from such a vantage point… I think it’s true that no matter where you are or what you’re doing, there’s probably someone watching.

Um, that landlord sounds disgusting. I really don’t understand flashers, though I’ve encountered my fair share of them here in the hospital. And wow– you should write about your squatting experiences. “Tales from the Squat.”

A DJ with Tourette’s Syndrome who @ 3 am EVERY morning would shout an obscene rant at the world in general. I imagined him at weddings, decrying the bride in foul mouthed tirades ruining the poor girl’s day.

The comments are different again! (See how comfortable I’ve become with mentioning changes since our last chat about that? Apparently I just needed to feel validated.)

I feel so sorry for that little girl. And for the family, by extension, I guess. Obviously a soul in need of a spirit guide.

I feel sort of sorry for the neighbour with the basement, too, but only from the safety of my distant computer. Part of me is imagining all sorts of horrors over what sort of “video” he wanted to watch with you and the other part of me thinks it was probably, like, The Lion King or something.

Yes! You exercise that change-mentioning-power, it’s yours to exact upon me at any moment.

She definitely needed someone in her life to take notice. Her father was weird and would do awkward jujitzu moves in the front yard on those foam puzzle piece things that are for toddlers.

I love all of your empathy. It was just SO weird when he got angry about me not wanting to come over and watch it– like he was visibly shaking. Awkward. I feel like maybe he was going for the “beautiful plastic bag” sort of moment from American Beauty but it probably would have been more like footage from The Ring.

I can tell you are ironing out the kinks on your new site! 🙂 All seems to be working well. I hope you got my comments on your previous posts. I wasn’t sure if it was going on your fb page or wordpress. 🙂

That poor little girl. It would be curious to find out what she is doing now although maybe you don’t really want to know. As for Santa, that must have been freaky! You just never know. Glad nothing happened and you did not live in a basement!

I currently have a neighbor who is married and who happened to be my Biology teacher in middle school. He freaked me out then and he freaks me out now. He was so sleazy always staring at my chest and being too touchy feely during class. I loathed him! Then we happened to move into his neighborhood without knowing this important piece of information. I found out that he was finally “retired” forcefully from the school system for “inappropriately” touching a young girl. Since then, I have told my daughter to stay away from him and his house and is the reason we have thick curtains on our front windows. He walks his dog daily and peers inside people’s houses a bit too much. UGH!

Yes, hopefully the kinks are worked out now! I’m afraid I did lose some comments in the switch 🙁 Argh! It’s like an undelivered letter, such torture!!!

That is so weird that your neighbor was your teacher– weird how we all sort of even out as “adults” eventually. Awkward.
I had a teacher like that as well– he always had favorites who usually happened to be cheerleaders, go figure. He was eventually fired. Actually, a shit ton of teachers from my high school were fired for sexually inappropriate behaviors or relationships with students! Also: my biology teacher was a total arse… though now I think it was probably just self-esteem issues.

I doubt I was the only one to “attack” her that day either. It didn’t occur to me until sometime later that the area where I picked her up had no houses or people for about 25 miles either way. I bet she had a similar “bad” experience with the previous driver and was either ejected or demanded to be let out in the middle of no where – where I found her.

I have had to break into my home before. Nothing like what you did, obviously, I was just locked out and needed to put my elbow through the window. Either that or I’m mixing up two different events. Either way, my elbow went through a window. And I doubt Zola would let you get Aussanapped.

Bwahaha! “where I would eventually be embalmed and dressed up in hunting clothes.” Hilarious! My across-the-street neighbors on Ben Avenue would water their dirt yard (yes DIRT yard) every night about 2 am. There were 3 of them — brothers — all in their 40’s — and they lived there with their mother. All 4 of them would crowd around the engine of a car and drink beer and discuss the finer points of automotive innards — the brothers in sleeveless Tshirts and Ma in her rollers and housecoat — all of them smoking cigs. When I locked myself out one day, they let me come in and use their phone — could not have been nicer about it — and it was my first time (and last time) in a hoarder house!

What the heck is with all these people doing weird things in their yards at 2am?! The only way I am in my yard in the middle of the night is if I’m crossing it to get home from imbibing. A bunch of grown mothers living with their mother… that’s creepy and also kind of sounds like that movie, Goonies.

I’ve never been in a hoarder house, I’m curious! Though some of my coworkers are definitely hoarders, judging from their offices… seeing inside their homes… not sure I’m prepared for that.

It probably IS haunted, Paul! Haunted by the trail of dead blogs I’ve slaughtered in the process of finally getting this one to where it needs to be! It may be a limited number of nested comments, I’ll have to check!

Meeting the neighbors: “Hi, my name’s Vickie. I’m on house arrest, so I can’t go nowheres but work and meetings.” Oh. It’s nice to meet you, Vickie… “Could I come in and use your phone to call the police? We have a domestic violence situation going on next door.” Oh, sure. Let’s hope your violent boyfriend followed you next door, okay? I’ll protect you… Yeah, I used to live in a really exciting neighborhood. Police officer to me: “ma’am, do you know the people who live in the house next door?” Me: “Well, no. I kind of try not to know my neighbors.” Officer: “That’s smart.”

“I can’t go nowhere’s” is almost more terrifying than wondering what she must have done to warrant being on house arrest! And I love that the cop agreed with you– in some neighborhoods, it’s definitely safest to NOT get to know those people, no way.

Yes to all three. I have had to break into my own house at various times of my life, and each time I found it alarmingly easy, even without breaking anything, which is why I sleep with a pistol next to the bed. We do have a really nice alarm system, but it’s been out of service since we turned off our land line phone in like 2000-oh-dinosaur.

When I first graduated HS, I lived in a 25′ camp trailer at a KOA for a summer, and the creepy old guy who ran the campground and was also the janitor/lawn guy, used to lurk around and show up at odd times, and would always mow the grass RIGHT AROUND MY TRAILER at like 5 a.m. Which always struck me as odd, since I’m pretty sure I was the only resident in the park, and I really didn’t care about the grass at 18 years old. He also was always asking why I didn’t take advantage of the access, for residents, to the public hot tub/cesspool, and I hated that the shower house could be accessed with a keypad code, which of course he knew the code for. EW. Talk about FAST showers…

Sleeping with a gun next to the bed, I like it. I’m right there with you.

Oh yuck, Creepy Camp Guy sounds a lot like South Pole Santa… I would not be able to handle that shower situation, no thank you. And hot tubs are nasty unless you bought it, are the first owner, and it’s kept in your own yard. Those are just the rules.

And that Southern Santa guy is too creepy and also too familiar – there’s enough of those that seem to pass through the store I work at right now, with it being the only one on a remote highway no less. I think it’s a great idea that you kept that picture, too. Omg… like what was going through the guy’s head when he came over to leave that for you?

The creepiest neighbour I have ever had to date actually lives in the room next to me. :/ I do have a lock on my door which is great. I don’t know any future serial killer kids, but I may know a few adults that could snap into one given the right circumstance. And yes, I have had to break into my house a few times in my life. 🙂

Your neighbors were creepy and I’m glad you moved. Yeah! That little girl has Ted Bundy potential written all over her.

My creepiest neighbor was someone who hurled disturbing comments at women as he passed by them on the street. He also followed me for several blocks – on two occasions – until I shook him off. The second time I stayed at a gas station, where friends worked, for an hour until I was sure he was long gone.

One day, I was about to buy shoes. He was the salesman who waited on me. I realized that if I handed over my check, then he would have my address AND my name. I walked out without the shoes. (I’m visiting from Mark Bialczak’s blog. Love your stories.)

Oh yikes. Disturbing comments? That’s a trigger for me, I absolutely can’t handle it. Violence is bad and all but I have a story about someone who made a comment to me at a moment when I was not feeling very namaste… I don’t know why people think that’s okay or that they can get away with it. You were wise to not let him see your address on a check! I only list my first two initials on my debit card for the same reason– I had someone friend me on facebook after I bought something from them. No bueno!

You really do have a high tolerance for crazy people! I can see why you survive where you work; you’ve had more than your share of exposure to the weird and possibly dangerous…I’m thinking of the girl and that poor cat! I haven’t had any really weird or strange neighbors, but I’ve had a few that didn’t speak to anyone and only went in and out of the house on rare occasions. They never gave me any problem, but they were definitely odd. Compared to your stories, however, they are really tame. 🙂

Hahahahaha I just laughed out loud in this weird weezy sort of way and kicked my feet a bit. “Most children look a bit evil.” I will have to quote you on that 😉

I need to find that damn photo!!! I pulled out a stack of boxes from my attic, proceeded to scatter them all over one side of my staircase, and then lost interest. I feel like someone is going to get around to saying “pics or it didn’t happen” so I need to be prepared.

You’re definitely right about the suburbs. One of my AFAM professors said it best: “you rich white people have some crazy shit going on in your houses.” I’ll never forget that.

Grew up in an apartment building, as my parents were the on site managers, we had LOTS of creepy neighbors…THIS guy was one of the worst.
At the age of 15 I remember a freaky 30 year old guy that would follow me around when I’d do yard work or take out trash….he always seemed to show up when I was outside. I called him “Slug Man”…
My mother seemed unaware of his creepiness and my father had already left the home so I was pretty much on my own…and at 15, there didn’t seem like much I could do…UNTIL one day a card came in the mail
(MAIL) from him saying he wanted to “Couch me thru life”….we were pretty sure he meant “coach” but you can never tell with creepers…
I showed the card to my mom, and eventually the police were called….when they went into his apartment, there was A TELESCOPE and CAMERA with a telephoto lens on a tripod…and taped to the wall around it, many many pictures of me taped to the wall….me working in the yard, at the pool, doing laundry, and pictures taken THRU MY BEDROOM window….Yep… all at the age of 15.
The police told him to stop it, and my mom told me not to be mean to him because he was a sad man.

So much for protecting your kid…. CREEPY GUY WAS CREEPY, Mom wasn’t the best parent.

p.s. there was a kid who lived in our building who found a kitten (weren’t allowed pets in our building) and she did the EXACT same thing, tied a shoe string around the neck and SWUNG it…the cat lost it;s meow, was saved by me, and lived a very nice life with a friend down at the beach until dying of old age.
There was something seriously wrong with that little girl…I refused to babysit her or watch her in the pool during summer time because she scared me….

HOLY SHIT there’s so much in this comment! First off, that’s like a creepy psycho killer movie right there– telephoto lens? I die inside just thinking about it. At 15? If I were your Mother, I’d have had blood on my hands. Gah I can’t believe that all the cops did was tell him to stop. Things have changed since then, thank goodness.

And that’s so awful about the girl swinging the cat by it’s neck 🙁 I wouldn’t have babysat her either, she sounds like the kid from “Bad Seed” or whatever that movie is called.

I don’t think I’ve ever had any creepy neighbors like your taxidermy guy or the future serial killer girl, but I’ve had my fair share of weird, crazy and stupid ones. I currently have a couple next door who fight maybe 5 or 6 times each day. When they don’t fight, they sing out of tune (in a drunk kind of way) or make spontaneous yells where I don’t know if they’re happy or sad. Maybe it’s faked happiness, where they’re balancing on the border between regular sadness and “I am gonna cry my heart out and throw stuff everywhere” sadness? Every now and then they also howl like werewolves… okay, that’s actually kind of creepy. I should probably also point out that I’ve heard them having sex with each other, and it wasn’t pretty. The woman yelled at him that he was inside her butt, and it hurt, and the man yelled that he wasn’t, because he would know if he was. I’ve actually had to call security on them. I’m sometimes sure they will kill each other any minute. So yeah, that’s kind of creepy, but mostly very annoying.

The door to my left keeps an old man who’s always peeing his pants. He smells really bad of urine, tobacco and unwashed hair. I once met him in the staircase when I was leaving the building with the friend, and he asked as to throw away his garbage. He’s hard of walking, so we felt bad to resist this “offer”, and did in fact throw away his bags of whatever the hell he stuffs in them. I don’t wanna know. All I know is that my friend got something slimy on her hand, and we were freaked out by it and tried to clean her hands in the dry spring grass, and she were close to crying all the way to the store (we really couldn’t go home immediately after throwing his garbage, he’d know we find him icky and needed to wash our hands, and we’re way too nice for that). Yuck.

I’ve also lived next door to a guy who belonged to a motorcycle gang. I was relieved when he moved out, but unfortunately he was replaced by a racist guy who liked to yell racist slur at muslims, and who once threw a burning cigarette at the balcony of another neighbor so a small fire broke out. Now that I think of it, it’s really fucking creepy. I’m glad I’ve moved out of there and I’m pretty damn sure that if I ever go back, there won’t be a house there no more. He’s probably burned it down to the ground.

Holy crap, Lili! That’s some messed up living accomodations right there. The fighting 5 or 6 times a day sounds awful… I don’t know how people can live like that, but I can’t judge them after some of the things I’ve put up with! The howling and the awkward sex yelling…. I totally judge that though.

That’s awkward about getting slime on her hands from the neighbor’s garbage… I would totally have cried and probably found some sort of harsh chemical to pour all over myself.

Wow, just wow. I never had a crazy neighbor, just the stalker. I did, however, have a neighbor who lived above me who called the rentacops who patrolled our apartments at least once a week on me. I would seriously be sitting in my living room watching Sex and the City, drinking a glass of wine, and the rentacop would knock on my door. He’d go into his spill about how there was a disturbance, yada yada yada until I opened my door to show him nothing but me, and cabernet, and HBO. I think my neighbor might have just had a problem with Sarah Jessica Parker.

Oh the stalker most definitely counts as relatable to this situation! And how awkward about the neighbor– why are some people like that? My brother and SIL have a neighbor who will always stand in his yard and videotape them anytime they have people over, like he thinks they’re doing something illegal. He’s called the police for their parking as well, when one of them hangs out over the edge of the sidewalk. These people need better hobbies.

Oh I DEFINITELY feel disturbed when I look back on my own self as a child… I should blog about some of the games I played with my friend Peeves but I’m pretty sure people would not be able to see past it, it’s that deranged…

CreepiEST? That is a toughie. I guess it’s a toss-up between the one who burned his stepson with cigarettes and the one who tried to break down the door to rape me. Although the one who tried to get me to bite the other half of his cocktail weiner out of his mouth when I was a preteen was pretty creepy… Lemmee think some more and get back to you : )

It’s almost kind of reassuring though, right? It troubled me that no one found it odd. Of course… white, middle class, female privilege probably had something to do with it. I should probs become a cat burglar.

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